The Fall of Valhalla
by Sharpenal
Summary: A small group, desperate to survive the plague known as the necromorph, try to navagate the USG Valhalla. please R&R. Rated M for language, and gore.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Silence.

_What the hell?_

Shadows twisting and turning in the cast of the fire.

_Where the hell am I? _

The hiss of steam, the clank and clash of machinery, unnoticed at first, but easily recognized. Just back-drop noise.

_Am I dead?_

A man slowly gets to his feet.

_That escape pod, the ship..._

The other remnants of his team slowly got to their feet, shaking off the blast. Moans of pain and fatigue follow.

_At least I think im not dead._

The man moved, and a symphony of pain replied.

_Nope, not dead. Damn my head hurts. Just gonna close my eyes for a second._

The engineer almost collapsed, had not another hand held him up.

"Keep your bearings, you gonna make it?" the unknown assister asked

"Maybe. What the hell happened?" The man in the engineering RIG replied.

"Cant tell, maybe we hit something, the Valhalla will make it though, shes a tough ship."

"Hit something? Like this place hasn't already gone to hell."

"Maybe, but we can still make it, there is a small re-service vessel on the opposite side of the ship."

"How many are left?"

"Enough."

"um guys? We did a quick head count, were short a man..." another man cut in

"Ah shi-"

A large bang, screaming, followed by gunfire.

_I need to pull my head out my ass, and open my eyes._

Mechanical engineer Edward Dymidowski opened his eyes through his slitted helmet and gazed upon the horrors that have befallen the USG Valhalla.

___________________________________

Ive always wanted to do a fan-fic on Dead Space, and seeing how there was not a lot of after-story on the USG Valhalla, I decided to make my story based there, if there are any mistakes, please point them out, and if I am off on a specific detail or two, please point them out also.

I left it short because its a prologue, its supposed to entice you to read upcoming chapters. The prologue is vague so I can move the plot in whatever direction that I think suits.


	2. Chapter 1: Limb to Limb

Chapter 1:

Limb to Limb

Mechanical engineer Edward Dymidowski opened his eyes through his slitted helmet and gazed upon the horrors that have befallen the USG Valhalla, or he would have, but there was a big hulk of flesh in his way.

The man that had supported the shell-shocked engineer was now lying on his back, a huge form on top of him. Thinking quickly, Edward grabbed the beast by its huge scorpion-like tail and attempted to pull it off. _Attempted _was a good word, as the beast actually _flipped _the 6'1 man over its head and brought its attention on the bewildered Edward.

Though the engineer was not even close to fighting condition, the man under the beast was not going to let it kill one of the only surviving members on this god forsaken vessel. The man grabbed an industrial welding torch off his belt and proceeded to cook the damn thing.

_Normally_ the creature could have had the time to fight back, _normally_ the creature could have saved its own life by stabbing its attacker with its skewering tail. Instead of a redeeming martyrdom, the creature erupted into flames and started to flash fry at the instantaneous 500 degrees plus from the torch.

Silence, no wait, a slight crisping noise.

_Oh god, am I dead now?_

The smell of burning rot and decay, along with flesh blood and anesthetics.

_This must be hell, gotta be hell._

"Don't move, you might re-open the wound."

_What wound? I don't feel a thing._

"I gave you one of the few med-packs, it stopped the bleeding. You should be fine."

_That explains the no feeling sensation._

Edward opened his eyes to see a familiar face.

_That son of a bitch saved me again._

"Alright, lets get your lazy ass up."

_Now I owe his ass._

Edward was mostly pulled up by his good friend and mechanist, Timothy Lyke. Upon attempting to stand, Ed noticed a few things. The first was the smoking form in front of him, the thing was now being repeatedly kicked by a security guard. Not that titles matter in this hell hole, all it meant was that you knew how to do things others can't. All the more reason to stick together.

"Who did we lose?" A man on the other side of the room asked.

"Ah shit. Its Derek." Another one replied.

_Another casualty._

"Shit Tim, you cooked the bastard." Ed spoke up.

"Just doing my job, well, my new job anyway." Tim replied, not a tear shed for the used to be human.

"You do good work." The security guard butted in.

"I do whats necessary for our survival." Tim said, never one to be a glory hog.

Ed was starting to actually get a good grasp on reality, he could feel the pain, dulled by the med-pack. He could also see the dead body of a stranger hunkered in the corner of the room. _Poor bastard never stood a chance. _The dismembered bodies of two more corpses lie in another corner. The things with blades sprouting from their hands, another person, maybe a scientist, maybe another ensign. Whoever it was, she was tearing the one of the things apart. Ed would have put his money on the idea that the necro stopped moving a few minutes ago, but that didn't stop the woman from ripping the only arm left on the thing to teeny tiny pieces, tears streaming down her face, a pent up rage being released into the 'dead' undead.

_-------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

_You fuck! You fucking bustard! Why did you fucking kill him!? _

Ensign Julie Shelly was indulging in a wave of dementia. She was believed to be professional, but fear can crack anyone. The shrinks and smartasses in the real world say fear can and _will _eventually cause some form of mental reversion. What this means is that the normally calm will break, the lunatics will become prophets, and the squeamish and become gun-totting commandos.

Of course, Shelly wasn't thinking of this, being occupied with whatever the hell just killed her only love and 'escape' from this shit-hole.

_Oh god why? Why? Why? Why did you let those **things **kill him?_

"AHHH!!" She screamed, collapsing upon her knees, looking up at the ceiling, the broken vent in her sight. The interior of the vent was cast an unusual red, possibly by a light.

A shadow passed through the light.

_Oh shit oh shit oh shit!_

"Guys..." Her voice was shaky, starked with fear and emotion.

"You OK?" Edward called from the opposite side of the room, surprised he could speak loud enough for her to hear.

"No... I the-think I saw one..." She said, a coldness in her voice, it may have been fear, or determination, _it doesn't matter either way, ill rip all these bastards limb from limb._

Everyone was instantly alert, the man that had answered her staggered to his feet, his engineering RIG pulling down on him like a lead weight by the look of it. If embarrassment were an important factor on this ship, the smaller man would win the medal. The engineer tripped over his own feet, and landed on the floor.

Edward may have been cursing at his feet, but they turned out to save his ass as another one of the undead burst from the wall, flew over the pile of clumsy metal that is Ed, and landed on the recently deceased Derek.

You could spend thirty minutes on the Valhalla, and be lucky to have all your limbs, but this 'form' of necromorph was different. There was a flap of skin connected from the creatures front appendages to their back, and a very menacing spear protruding from the front of the thing. No one in this room had ever seen anything remotely like it.

Instead of going for the human beings attempting to hit the creature with an assortment of mining equipment, it stabbed the dead body in the forehead with its spear, and than things went to hell, once again.

Instead of cowering in fear, the 27 year old ,female, co-pilot ensign grabbed the nearest weapon, the dismembered arm of the recently deceased bladed monster.

_----------------------------------------------------------------------------_

_Well that was fucking smooth._

Ed had just tripped over his morphine blurry feet, and was going to attempt to get up when he heard a crash, than screams, and decided to play dead, hoping the creatures will think he's another body.

Of course, he didn't know that a corpse was the worst thing to be, but it was his lucky day that the creature didn't maul him, he saw a shadow pass overhead, which is weird on its own. The little fucks didn't fly did they?

The creature started to convulse, not from the pulse rifle that found purchase on its back hide, but from the body of Derek, who's skin was turning a putrid black and the large, deadly blades that the survivors were way to familiar with erupted from his hands. If you could still call the thing _him_, Derek was now the all to deadly necromorph, and needed to be dealt with.

The first to react was someone he didnt know, and one hell of a reaction it was, she was holding the arm of a decapitated necromorph at the base and swung it like a bat at her once-lover.

There was a shout, anger, hatred emitting from the voice. Pain.

_Holy mother of shit-fucker, I have to be dreaming._

Ed gazed up to see the unnamed woman using a bladed _arm_ to _decapitate_ what looked like one hell-spawn no one should have to deal with. She was landing good blows, the arm taking away a fist sized chunk of flesh with a sickening sound following the pulling back of the arm. The monstrosity still stood, and drove one of its blades deep into her left shoulder. Not to say everyone wasn't doing their part, but round after round, the beast still wouldn't fall. Dead flesh must be harder than living.

The stench was unbearable.

The scream of the living and necro fill the room.

There was blood everywhere.

And the broken-down, injured, and only slightly delusional Edward snapped.

He was normally a calm man that did his job to the best of his ability, he thought things through, and always preceded with caution. The only reason his life had even developed along these lines was because of a tragic accident at age 14. But hes not obliged to talk about the moment.

Maybe fear got the best of him, maybe he just got sick of it, but the only thing anyone was sure about was that this man just grew a second pair and grabbed the remaining forearm of the creature (the other one fell off, not all those shots were wasted.) and kicked the side of its waist.

There was a snap, than a rip, than all that Edward remembered was blackness.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Julie thought she was done, the one she had hoped to put out of his misery had impaled her in her left shoulder. Derek couldn't have the pleasure of death either at this rate, he'd be doomed to walk these dead halls forever, is release of ones love through death so wrong?

Before the creature decapitated her, its only arm preparing to cut her head off at the neck, there was movement to her right, and the clumsy engineer grabbed Derek's forearm, and kicked that dead bastard in the waist.

The beast staggered back, now missing both its arms, and everyone knew that the thing was just another dead body waiting to happen.

The unknown man wasted no time, dropping the limb and smashing his fists into her deceased lover.

Derek fell over.

The man followed. Pummeling Derek's chest in.

Derek stopped moving.

The man got up, his two slitted visor on the engineering RIG shaded red with blood.

He brought his boot upon Derek's head.

_Squish, snap, crack. No sound can describe this._

Brains and bits of skull rained upon the deck in a gooey explosion along the floor.

Everyone was silent.

The man fell over, the wound in his leg from his other encounter reopened, blood started seeping onto the floor from the hole its tail had created. Another man rushed to his side. Julie was always observant, being careful to notice every last detail about something, but her thoughts swan at the man.

_He saved my life... MY life._

She tended to take things personally.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Louis Riggs stood atop the a crate, hoping to get everyones attention. Not that there was much to cling on to.

_A vessel on the other side of this nightmare, that may be our ticket out of here, but what if its not there, what if we all die on Valhalla? _

He banished those thoughts, _its all we have left, might as well fight our way out while we still have some fight in us._ Louis coughed to get everyones attention.

"Alright people, I know I have spent way to damn much time on this ship, and I know you all have too. If you have heard the words from the good mechanic Timothy, than you know there is a _chance_ that a functional vessel remains on the rapid-repair deck near the engines. There is a _chance_ that we can make it to the other side."

He let that settle in.

"We sure as shit can't stay here" one man spoke up.

"Yeah."

"I say we go!"

"Why the hell not?"

"Might as well go down swingin."

Riggs was pleased with the responses, what other choice did they have? It was do or die, and they were leaning pretty close to die.

"Alright, its settled we move out in twenty minutes, grab all you can, and get ready to leave the station."

And so the rag-tag team searched the room extensively, grabbing anything that might give them an edge against the upcoming nightmares that await.

_Lets get out of here and tear these suns of bitches from limb to limb._

X---------------------------------------X

Phew, this one took some thinking, I actually have a plot devised!

Thank you, the few who are going to try and listen to my story, please give your opinions on how its if its a little dull, with character development and etc. but don't worry their hells just getting warmed up...


End file.
